Smile, the Universe hates you
by Exploded Pen
Summary: Sequel to The Armoury Officer's Fear of the Pollen count, there's only so much sunshine you can take from one person when you need to sleep...


**000 Disclaimer, I own nothing, these people belong to the undeserving! 000 Well, this is the sequel to the Armoury Officer's Fear of the Pollen Count, just a slice of insanity because I haven't written anything that could be classed as 'humourous' or frankly bizzare in quite a while! Enjoy! 000**

"If you don't do somethin', I'm gonna kill him!"

Trip Tucker had never considered himself a violent man, there hadn't been many times where he felt the need to beat someone's face in – it just wasn't his style.

Of course he'd never been stuck in sickbay infected with Pollen that affected the mood of its victims. While he hadn't received the highest dose of pollen it had still made him grumpy and depressive.

Malcolm, who had received the highest dose of pollen, had yet to come off his high. Oh yes, his sanity had packed its bags and set off on a well deserved holiday.

"He can't help it," said Phlox patiently. He glanced over to where Malcolm was blithely talking to thin air.

"Give him drugs! Knock him out! ANYTHING!" Trip exclaimed twisting his pillow in frustrated anger.

"Mr Tucker, need I remind you that you are also under the pollen's influences, hmm?" Phlox smiled. "I'm sure under normal circumstances you would be slightly more understanding."

Malcolm inexplicably giggled. "Circumstances is a funny word!"

Archer pasted his best diplomatic smile across his face. "It's not so bad…"

Then Malcolm started to sing. "Down at the bottom of the garden, with the birds and the bees, there lives a group of tiny people…they are the Poddington Peas, the Poddington Peas!"

There was a stunned silence; no one had heard Malcolm sing since last New Years Eve. (1) Malcolm beamed and lazily addressed the ceiling. "I'm glad you liked that, the Poddington Peas was a childhood favourite of mine. I never thought I'd remember the lyrics after all this time, considering the last time I watched it I was roughly six years old."

"Who is he talking to?" Archer whispered clutching his pillow for support.

"I don't wanna know," Trip whispered back

"I really liked Red Dwarf too," said Malcolm thoughtfully. "Highly amusing, theme song was excellent…you thought so too? I'm glad someone agrees…theme tune was funny…you've never heard it? God it was fantastic!"

Halfway through the second verse of the Red Dwarf theme tune ("I want to lie shipwrecked and comatose, drinking fresh mango juice…") Archer and Trip turned to Phlox and simultaneously ordered: "Knock him out, NOW!"

"Gentlemen," said Phlox calmly. "There's nothing I can give him, but rest assured he will probably fall asleep soon."

Nearly half an hour later, Malcolm was working his way through 'So long, and thanks for all the fish' and debating the lyrical genius of The Divine Comedy. Archer had gotten to the point where, after an unsuccessful bid for freedom, he was seriously thinking of holding his breath till he passed out.

"Oh God!" Trip moaned burying his face in his pillow. "He's a robot; he has to be a robot! Plug him into to the ship and stick him in a cupboard somewhere he'll be fine."

"I believe I can fly, I got shot by the FBI, all I wanted was a bag of chips, instead they shot me in my dangly bits!"

"That's it!" Archer yelled. "I have a pounding headache and I swear to God that I am not going to be responsible for my actions if you don't either get me out of here or drug _him_" He gestured to Malcolm. "Into the middle of the next century! Do I make myself clear, Doctor!"

Phlox released a long suffering sigh and looked at the two officers staring at him in mutinous silence.

"He's probably stuck stimulants in him," said Trip darkly. "He's toying with us, Cap'n. He's torturing us…"

"I have done nothing of the sort," said Phlox indignantly. "Now lie down, rest and stop complaining."

"You can't order the Cap'n around!" Trip cried triumphantly.

"I can when he's in my sickbay," Phlox reminded him.

Archer sighed and Trip threw himself back down on the biobed in disgust. Phlox moved over to check on Malcolm. The Lieutenant sighed and gave Phlox a look of sheer delight.

"How are you feeling?" Phlox asked kindly managing to keep the concern from his voice. He had never seen the Lieutenant look so happy to see him.

"I've just remembered my sister's having crumbs with biscuit," said Malcolm brightly. (2) "I didn't realise you were delivering them!"

Phlox cast an experienced eye over the monitors; Malcolm yawned and closed his eyes. Behind him he heard sickbay doors close.

Phlox whipped round but it was too late. Archer and Trip had made a bid for freedom, it was a shame too because Malcolm had finally fallen asleep.

Archer all but flew into his quarters closely followed by Trip. Porthos greeted his master enthusiastically while Trip flung himself down on the sofa trying to get his breath back.

"You here that?" Archer asked sitting on his bed and closing his eyes in sheer joy.

Trip grinned. "Silence."

"Exactly."

Both of them were inches away from sleep when the door opened less than ten minutes later.

"Gentlemen, I thought we agreed to stay in sickbay."

"I lied," Trip mumbled throwing his arm across his eyes.

"Mr Tucker, sleeping in that position will only make your muscles seize up."

"Don't care."

"I need both of you in sickbay where I can keep an eye on you."

They continued to fight Phlox for another ten minutes before the good Doctor threatened to man handle them down to sickbay. Needless to say there was plenty of grumbling and cursing as they returned to sickbay.

"He's fully asleep," Phlox assured them. "He fell asleep seconds after you left."

Trip sighed. "Alright."

Phlox hovered above them as they laid down on the biobeds. "Rest please."

Trip enjoyed the blissful silence as his mind drifted off towards slumber; Archer was already asleep, gently snoring away…

"Skism, I like that word, I shall steal it."

Trip shot up so fast he nearly catapulted himself off the biobed. He stared at Malcolm, who was still peacefully asleep…and still talking. Trip felt like crying at the injustice of it all.

"The Universe hates me!"

(1)It had been a good party – for everyone who could remember it. Trip and Malcolm had gotten so hammered that by the time they started singing they were propping each other up and slurring like there was no tomorrow. Of course the next day they were nursing hangovers so extreme that their staff played rock, paper, scissors to decide who would disturb them.

(2)Malcolm had walked in on his sister discussing men with her friend, namely about having 'crumbs' with 'Biscuit'. It was only later that he realised 'Biscuit' was codename for one particular boy and that Madeline hadn't just developed a highly disturbing biscuit fetish.

**000 Please review! 000**


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